Jack allowed himself to be led by his companion,
and soon reached the comfortable building which had been erected by one
of those benevolent associations which are an honor to the Northern
cities.
The poor wanderer felt a greater sense of comfort than he had
experienced for years, as he entered a pleasant little chamber in this
truly homelike abode. When he had made the acquaintance of the
kind-hearted landlady, he found her willing to let him remain, even
after he had told her of his destitute condition; and she promised that
every effort should be made to restore to him his hard earnings.
On going back to his snug quarters, after this conversation, there was
something like thankfulness to the Giver of all good in Jack's heart. By
his bedside he found a Bible, a volume which he had not seen since the
one his mother gave him was lost, five years before, when he was wrecked
upon the coast of Africa. He thought of the sermon which he had heard
that afternoon, and took up the book to look for the text,--"The sea
shall give up its dead." The first words upon which his eye fell
were,--"For this my son was lost and is found." The beautiful story of
the Prodigal Son, as he had heard it in childhood, came full into his
mind, and he remembered how often he had read it at his mother's knee.
The tears rolled down his cheek, as, sitting down beside the little pine
table, he read again that touching picture of God's love for his
wandering children; and when he came to the confession of the penitent
son, it burst forth from his own heart.
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